Tonight I'm Lovin' You
by LeighsEric
Summary: AH Sookie and Amelia go for a girls night out at a casino, where they meet the tall, blond and gorgeous manager of the nightclub there. DISCLAIMER: None of the named characters belong to me. They are the property of Sookie Stackhouse creator, Charlaine Harris. The song I used for inspiration, Tonight I'm Lovin' You, belongs to Enrique Iglesias.


I Write The Songs, CONTEST ENTRY

Tonight I'm Lovin' You

BETA NAME: MissusT – She did a great job of clearing things up, both on the page and in my head.

[][][][]

"I'll hold," Sookie said, giving her hand a quick palm down flick over her cards for emphasis. As the dealer turned to the remaining gamblers at the table, Sookie tilted her head to her left and asked, "Whose bright idea was it to come to Shreveport again?" Her cards totaled eighteen, not a great blackjack hand but not a hopeless one either.

She was nursing a gin and tonic and looking around for a clock. It was a futile effort. Like all the other casinos, The Bayou Sunset didn't have clocks where customers could see them, unless you were standing at a cashier's cage, and she'd neglected to wear a watch.

"Yours I'm afraid," Amelia answered brightly. She was holding twenty, a much sweeter position to be in. Besides, she wasn't losing overall so she could afford to be bright. "You haven't lost all your money yet, have you?" Amelia asked worriedly. She wasn't near ready to make the drive back to Bon Temps. It wasn't even midnight yet.

Sookie sighed heavily as she reflected on the lonely twenty-dollar bill in her front pocket. "I only brought a hundred dollars to spend, but it's almost gone," she said with a scoffing laugh. "If I don't win this hand I'll have to stop playing or I won't even be able to buy myself a drink if we decide to find a place to dance before we head home."

The possibility of no dancing snapped Amelia to attention. "Oh no!" she chirped. "There is no '_if'_, we're absolutely going dancing no matter what." She leaned over toward Sookie and lowered her voice. "I'm sure you won't need any drink money. There are plenty of good looking Louisiana gentlemen around who will be more than happy to make sure you don't go thirsty."

Amelia's smile was catching. Sookie heard herself laugh in spite of herself. "Great. That's just what I need, some guy who lost more money than me thinking if he pays to drown my sorrows he'll be buying more than gin."

Amelia sucked in a breath to launch her response, when suddenly a man's arm extended toward the table between them. "Ladies, if I may?"

"Twenty," the dealer announced, "Pay twenty-one."

"I'm out," Sookie said.

The man held two cards in his hand, not playing cards and too big for business cards. Some kind of advertisement she guessed. He pressed them into her hand.

"Your drinks are on me," came a deep velvet baritone voice.

Sookie looked up to find the owner of the arm and the voice and for a moment she forgot how to breathe. He was tall, not basketball player tall but well over six feet, blond and gorgeous.

He leaned down and his crystal blue eyes darted back and forth between the two women. He smiled a smile that would stop rush hour traffic and whispered, "I'm not even buying the gin. I'm just passing out cards that don't cost me a thing."

When they both simply stared stupidly at him rather than respond he chuckled, stood upright again and gave them a slight nod of his head. "The Sunset Club," he added, pointing in the direction he'd nodded. "That way, just past the roulette tables. Enjoy."

Sookie looked down at the cards that were in her hand. They were sort of mini flyers. Her wits finally reappeared and she realized that they hadn't thanked him, but when she raised her head to rectify the situation he had disappeared in the crowd.

"Wow!" Amelia sputtered, eyes wide and staring off into the crowd. "Did you get a load of that?" She spun back around and glanced at the comp cards in her friend's hand.

The dealer tapped the table in front of Amelia impatiently.

"I'm out too," Amelia said. She scooped up the few chips that were left in her rack, stuffed them into the small purse she had hanging by a long strap across one shoulder and grabbed Sookie's arm. "Let's go to the ladies room and freshen up before we hit the club."

Sookie allowed herself to be prodded into moving but she shook loose of Amelia's grip within only a few steps of leaving the blackjack table. "I'm not going to chase some stranger into a bar just because he handed me a coupon for a comp drink."

Amelia was looking at her like she had just announced she was giving up sunbathing and joining a convent. There was a brief pause before she donned her _patient kindergarten teacher speaking to an ADD child _tone and said, "Right. I see. Um, Sookie, if all the strangers in Shreveport looked like that guy I'd never speak to a man I'd already met again. Nobody said anything about chasing anybody. Merlotte's is only closed for renovations for one more night. This is our chance remember? That's why we're here, girl's night out, a little fun before getting back to the grind. Let's go to the club and dance, just like we planned. Bring the coupons. Have a drink. It's comp drinks, not a marriage contract. Come on."

[][][][]

The Sunset Club decor was like most casino bars. First off, it was small. Being small served several purposes. It required very few people to make it _appear_ crowded [pronounced popular], and on occasions when it actually was crowded it didn't take long for it to reach the Fire Marshall's maximum capacity number. Every casino wanted a popular nightclub; it looked good in the advertising, but not one so popular it would draw people away from gambling for very long.

The lights were set low, but there was lots of Plexiglas and plenty of shiny lacquered surfaces so the open spaces seemed brighter, but there were still more than enough shadows if you wanted to avoid wandering eyes.

Sookie would have been happiest in a half hidden alcove booth, but Amelia was determined to have as many wandering eyes as possible looking their way. "No way we're going home before morning," she'd said in the ladies room as she'd stood smoothing her mini skirt before a full-length mirror. She took Sookie by the hand and headed straight for a table almost exactly in the center of the room, and conveniently placed right next to the meager dance floor.

There wasn't much of a crowd, so they'd only been sitting a minute or two when a petite red-haired waitress with enormous hazel eyes and a pretty smile showed up to take their order. The smile sagged noticeably when Sookie produced the comp cards from her pocket. As a fellow waitress, Sookie understood the meaning behind the change of expression. People who used coupons were usually not very good tippers and some waitresses depended on their tips more than others.

They ordered their drinks and Sookie was amazed at how quickly the waitress returned with them, big pretty smile back in place.

"You should have said you were friends of Mr. Northman," the redhead informed them as she placed the drinks on the table. "I could have comped the drinks without using his promo cards."

Sookie wasn't really paying enough attention to bother trying to hide her confusion. "Mr. Northman?"

"Oh, you don't know him," the waitress said with a giggle. "Eric Northman. There." She pointed toward the bar.

Sure enough, there he was. His back was turned, but Sookie had no doubt it was the man they met at the blackjack table. He seemed to be giving instructions to the bartender.

"He's the manager," the waitress continued. "If you need anything else, just give me a wave." And with that she was off.

Amelia scoped out their surroundings as she sipped her drink. After a quick visual examination of all the male occupants of the room, she concluded, "We've got several pretty good prospects to choose from." She was including a couple of women in her mental count, but she saw no reason to share that piece of information with Sookie. "Even if you're not counting on Mister Tall Blonde Mystery Manager Man, there's still plenty to go around."

"Do we have to choose? Can't we just sit here and wait to be chosen?" Sookie asked hopefully. She wasn't at all sure she had the energy to keep up with Amelia tonight.

"Why wait? We have pick of the litter!" Amelia flashed a playful grin and reached across the table. "Come on, let's get this party started by sucking our choices in a little closer." She grabbed Sookie's hand and practically dragged her into the center of the dance floor.

The hard driving beat of the music seemed even louder here and it was difficult to see more than arms length away with all the swirling colored lights pulsating to the music.

When Amelia hatched a plan to draw attention there was no denying her and tonight was no exception. Wildly clapping and whistling admirers were soon surrounding them, crowding in close to watch them dance. Sookie's mood was taking a turn for the better. She enjoyed being the center of attention.

"Mind if I cut in?"

The voice came from behind, but Sookie recognized it at once. She spun around to face him, her arms over her head and her hips swinging side to side with the beat. "Aren't you on the clock?"

He laughed out loud and glanced down at his left wrist. "Yes, for the next twelve minutes."

Sookie was still swaying. Eric was standing perfectly still. His eyes were now locked on her, never wavering from her face; such a pale blue, like melting ice.

"And they pay you to dance?" she teased.

He closed the distance between them and slipped an arm around her waist. "Not as a rule, but I thought I'd better make my move before one of these fools decided he was brave enough to cut in before me."

"Wow," she said, her tone matching the mocking twinkle in her eyes. "You saved me from cowards _and_ fools. Did I really look like I needed saving so badly it couldn't have waited twelve minutes?" She lowered her arms and stepped back with one foot. She forced her eyes from him and twisted at the waist as if to twirl away.

His reflexes were too fast. He caught her by the hand and spun her around as if that had been their joint intention all along. This time when he pulled her into him, her hands rested on his upper arms and he held her in a tighter grip. "You looked like you needed a better class of company than you were likely to find in here at this time of night."

"I found you."

Before he could respond a waitress appeared beside him. She was saying something about keys and he shot an irritated glare at the bartender who only shrugged. "I'll be right there," he said impatiently to the waitress. His attention and his smile returned to Sookie. "Will you save my place for me?"

"How do I know you'll come back?"

He looked at his watch again. "Give me ten minutes."

"And what will you give me?" she asked as she wriggled back from him and began to sway on her own again.

The song on the pre-recorded music track changed.

He laughed again. "Breakfast." His smile changed to an evil grin as he recognized the new song. "But let me watch you dance first. Dance to this song, for me."

He backed off the dance floor, keeping his eyes on her as he went. Then he strode quickly to the bar before looking back. He fished a set of keys from a pocket and handed them to the bartender as they had a fairly intense conversation about something.

Sookie never let him out of her sight for more than a few seconds at a time as she danced. The song was almost half over before she paid enough attention to recognize it. She started giggling like a schoolgirl when she realized it was, _Tonight I'm Lovin' You _by Enrique Iglesias.

When the song was over, Sookie received a round of applause from several new admirers. She looked over and found Eric grinning his approval from behind the bar. She took a bow as if she was a paid performer and returned to her table. Her exit from the dance floor was met with several disappointed groans and objections, but she just smiled and answered them with an exaggerated shrug.

A fairly good-looking dark haired guy wearing tight jeans and a green plaid western shirt sauntered over a minute later. His intentions were plainly displayed on his face and just case there was any doubt, his cocky attitude confirmed them. One hand had a thumb hooked through a belt loop and the other held his drink. He had a crooked smile and he was leering at Sookie as if she was sitting there without her clothes on.

"I didn't want to leave you sitting here all alone, so I thought I'd join you. The name's Dave." He hadn't even thought to ask _her_ name.

His words weren't quite slurring together, but close. He was obviously getting close to tipping the scale from happy to drunk. He grabbed the back of the chair where Amelia had been sitting, as much for balance as to pull it out so he could sit down. Sookie's Gran would have described him as _smarmy._

Sookie slipped a foot around a leg of the chair to hold it in place and put on her perky waitress smile for Dave. "Oh, I'm not all alone at all, Dave. So there's no need for you to worry about leaving, but thanks for thinking about me before you go."

Dave's face registered confusion for a few seconds. Apparently he didn't quite get that he was being brushed off, so he kept going. "I want to do a lot more than think."

"Aww," she sighed pleasantly. "That's so sweet, but unfortunately that's all I do is think. Think, think, and think, all the time. It's like a disease." Her fake smile was still plastered firmly in place.

Dave's brows furrowed and his lips twisted into an odd sort of knot as his brain tried to wade through the whiskey and figure out if she was serious or insane. After a few seconds he decided that giving up was probably his best bet. "Yeah, well, uh, you might want to get that looked at." He released Amelia's chair and returned to his own.

It wasn't very long until Eric took the seat opposite her. They chatted and danced a couple of times before moving to a secluded booth.

Sookie could feel her temperature rise every time she looked at him, hell, every time he spoke. Then when he touched her, whether it was when he was holding her close on the dance floor or accidentally touching her hand from across the table, she felt like her skin was on fire.

After a while she decided she couldn't wait much longer. She wanted him almost badly enough to strip him down and have her way with him right here in the booth. She lowered her head slightly and looked up at him through her eyelashes. "You promised me breakfast. When is that usually?"

A luscious grin spread across his face, making the dimple in his chin seem even more pronounced. "The bar closes at six and I normally eat around nine." He glanced at his watch. "It's not quite one-thirty. I was hoping to eat a little closer to my regular time, but I'm open to suggestions. Do we need to stave off starvation now? Would you like something from the kitchen here?"

He stopped talking but he didn't look away. He was waiting. She could feel the anticipation rolling off of him. She could see it in his constant gaze. He was going to make her make the move. She peered directly into his eyes and said, "Not from the kitchen, no."

His grin morphed into that smile that made her heart skip a beat. He was up and standing next to her in a flash, holding out his hand to her. "Your chariot awaits."

"You did _NOT_ just say that," she groaned, but she put her hand in his anyway.

"I won't say it again," he assured her and they both laughed.

"I hope not."

Sookie's heart was racing as she waved to Amelia, who was now doing shots with a group of people crowded around a table near the bar. It really wasn't like her to allow herself to be picked up like this, and despite how much she was looking forward to getting Eric in the sack, the little voice in the back of her head was starting to send out warnings.

_What if he's a psycho killer? What if I end up really liking him, but he doesn't like me? What if he's a psycho killer? What if he's only taking me to breakfast and I'm getting all worked up for nothing? WHAT IF HE'S A PSYCHO KILLER?_

Sookie gave her head a shake, as if that physical action would make the unwanted warnings fall out of her head and leave her alone to obsess over how smoking hot this guy was.

They skirted the casino on the way out and he picked up a plastic coin bucket as they passed a long row of slot machines.

"What's that for?" she asked.

He just flashed her a smile and said, "They're pretty handy. You never know when you might need one."

_Maybe he's planning to cut your head off, _the voice in the back of her head warned_._

_The bucket's not big enough, _she argued silently.

_He could cut your heart out._

_Oh, good grief. This is ridiculous. Stop already!_

He led her out a side exit and into a well-lit employee parking area. They were not alone. Eric exchanged waves with several people in various Bayou Sunset uniforms and to satisfy the voice in her head, Sookie smiled broadly and made eye contact with as many people as she could. They were all potential witnesses if she turned up short a head or a heart in the morning.

He pushed a button on his keychain and it was answered by the usual tweeting sound. Sookie wasn't sure which car the sound came from until she saw the lights flash on and off.

"You drive a Corvette," she said as she stared at the shiny red car and tried to remember not to let her mouth hang open.

"You don't like Corvettes?" he asked, opening the passenger side door for her. "I could always call us a taxi."

She looked up at him like he'd lost his mind and almost yelled at him before she realized he was only teasing. "Don't do that," she said with a snort. "Corvettes are great." She'd never ridden in one before, but she didn't tell him that.

Once he was behind the wheel and they were both buckled up, he turned to her and asked, "Where to?"

She was stumped. She hadn't thought this far ahead. "I – I don't know. Where do you think?"

"I live close by. We could go to my place. Then I could make you breakfast. I make great scrambled eggs."

He was offering to cook for her! That sounded like paradise. _NOOO!_ screamed the little voice only she could hear. _NOT HIS LAIR! _She almost answered the voice out loud, but she caught herself in time. "No," she said softly to Eric. "Not tonight."

If he was very disappointed, he didn't show it. He simply said, "Okay then, I'll drive and when you see a place you like, just say stop and we'll stop."

[][][][]

Upon closer inspection Sookie was having second thoughts about her choice. The Sleep & Dream Motel wasn't exactly what you'd call seedy, but Sookie doubted that anyone had ever used the word 'elegant' to describe it. The walls inside the lobby were decorated with brightly colored painted murals of smiling faces happily dreaming about the usual things that people fantasize about.

The dreams were depicted by thought bubbles, comic book style; a man dreaming of hitting the jackpot on a slot machine, a woman dreaming of meeting her prince charming, children sitting in the middle of a room filled with candy and toys. Yes, it was cheesy, but it had a nice family feel to it. It didn't look like it rented by the hour, or at least she didn't _think_ it did. Of course, she'd never actually seen a motel that rented by the hour, not that she knew of anyway.

Eric filled out a card with his name and the license plate number from his Corvette, then paid the woman behind the counter with a credit card. _Good,_ Sookie thought, shaking off her suspicions. She felt certain he would have paid cash for the room if he planned on doing her any harm.

He signed the receipt with a flourish and returned the pen to its holder. The woman unsuccessfully tried to stifle a yawn as she handed him his copy and a key card with one hand and rubbed her eyes with the other.

After folding the receipt and tucking it into a hip pocket, he picked up the coin bucket and turned to Sookie.

"Shall we?" he asked, placing the hand holding the bucket at the small of her back and making a palm up sweeping gesture toward the door with the other.

His crystal blue eyes glittered, even under the dull lobby lights, and there was that smile again. She wondered if anyone had ever been able to resist it. No, she decided. That wasn't possible. That was a smile that could lure a faithful woman into leaving her husband and children. She didn't stand a chance.

Their room was on the second floor. When they reached the top of the stairs she discovered the purpose of bringing the bucket.

"One second," he whispered in her ear and left her standing as he darted into the small alcove that was home to three vending machines and an ice maker.

Sookie heard him scoop up a bucket of ice. It wasn't much more than one second and they were walking again.

"You seem pretty familiar with this place. Come here often?" she teased, turning her head slightly and tilting it upward to make sure he could see that she was smiling.

"You picked it," he countered with a low chuckle. "And if memory serves, I've never had the pleasure of staying at this particular establishment, but I do know one thing. There's always an ice maker and it's always near the stairs." He reached into the bucket and popped a piece of ice into his mouth.

"That's two things," she said. She stopped and turned to face him. "Two is better than one, but I was really hoping you'd know more than that."

_God, that smile._

He leaned into her and gave her a quick peck on the cheek before moving on to her mouth. Their lips parted in unison, but rather than kiss her his tongue pushed the remainder of the ice cube from his mouth into hers, lingering just long enough to brush against her lips as they closed around the ice. His eyes danced as hers widened in surprise.

"This is us," he murmured, his body pressing her against a door and holding her there as he inserted the key card into the slot above the door handle. "That's three."

His breath was heavy yet cool against her skin sending flutters of goose prickles racing over her. _It's only the ice you're reacting to, not him, _her brain tried to reason, but she refused to listen. No more brain tonight, no more reasoning. Ice be damned, ice melted and that's exactly what she intended to do, melt into his arms.

"Three," she breathed, parroting his word. Anything else would require thought and she had given up thinking.

The door opened behind her and she felt like she would fall, but his arms were there, holding her upright and more importantly, close. So close. She followed as if they were dancing again as he guided her into the room and kicked the door closed behind them.

The room was dark except for a faint orange glow coming from what must be the bathroom and a sliver of moonlight peeking from around the edge of the black-lined drapes to cast a paper-thin illuminated line across one corner of the bed. It was all the light he needed.

"Somewhere in this room there's a drawer with a Gideon Bible, a few sheets of stationary and a pen. That's four. I'll stop counting now, but in a few hours if you still need a list I'll take that pen and paper and write it all out for you."

His voice was getting raspier as his breathing quickened. He wanted her as much as she wanted him. She could hear it.

"Stop counting," she echoed. It was all she could do.

Just as the backs of her knees touched the edge of the bed, he kissed her hard and deep, his tongue entwining with hers and doing battle for command, his hands holding her fast.

She clutched feverishly at his broad chiseled back to keep from losing her balance. For a moment she wondered if she was still melting into him, but no. She almost giggled. She could feel his cock stiffening and begging to be freed from his jeans. He was definitely grinding into her.

She dropped her right hand to the growing bulge in his pants. A low groan escaped him and she felt a shudder ricochet through his body. For half a heartbeat she thought his knees might betray him, but he recovered instantly.

What followed was a record setting flurry of clothing removal. Garments were dropped, tossed and otherwise discarded all around them with abandon.

Once they were both naked he pushed her back onto the bed leaving her legs, from the knees down, dangling off of the side. When he didn't immediately join her, she tried to sit up but he put a hand on her shoulder and gently nudged her back again.

His voice was only a hoarse whisper now. "No. Lie back. Relax," he said, barely audible over the labored sound of his breathing.

How did he expect her to relax when every nerve in her body was on fire and crackling with anticipation of his next touch?

She reached out for him but all that was within her grasp was his arm, his fingers still on her shoulder. She gripped his arm and pulled. "Come to me."

"With pleasure."

She felt the bed shifting under his weight as he came down on his knees on the bed beside her. The hand at her shoulder began an agonizingly slow descent, lightly following the line of her collarbone then inching its way to her left breast. There it paused. She arched her back, attempting to force herself deeper into his hand.

"Shh," he responded softly, drawing his hand back until only the very tips of his fingers remained in contact with her.

"No," she whimpered as she felt the area of contact shrinking. Her breathing was now heavier and more desperate sounding than his. She twisted her hips hoping to meet his and entice him closer but it was no use. She couldn't twist far enough without risking her breast losing contact with his hand. That was not an option.

Some deep corner of her brain, which had apparently refused the order to shut down, was horrified to realize she was in danger of crying.

His hand began to move again. Not away this time, but in slow drawn out circular motions; his fingertips grazing the surface of her skin, hesitating ever so slightly to attend each bit of peaked and pebbled flesh surrounding her nipple.

_Cry tomorrow, _she thought franticly. What would a few tears matter when I am with a man who can make me feel like this? She crammed the rebellious thoughts further into the corner they crept out from. _I don't care if I cry. I might even beg and if I do that'll be all right too._

She had almost decided that begging is what she should do when he spoke. One word.

"Perfect," he said, then simultaneously began stroking the nipple of her left breast between his thumb and fingers, and folding himself down and taking her right nipple gently between his teeth.

Her whole body gave a violent twitch, but somehow he absorbed it, never missing a nibble, or a stroke, or a lick, or a suck. "Oh god!" Another involuntary spasm overtook her and again he rode it out with ease.

The hand at her breast cupped her in a last caress before skimming down her stomach and coming to rest at her inner thigh.

His traveling hand seemed to be meandering aimlessly between her legs, bestowing soft caresses and applying pressure first to one thigh then the other, never touching the mound at their nexus. Of their own accord her legs parted, encouraging him to occupy the space between them; her soft moans pleading the urgency of her invitation.

Again she felt the bed, and thus her world, move as his lithe body repositioned its self.

She gave a small gasp in protest when he raised his head despite her efforts to hold him at her breast. His mouth found hers in the dark and as they kissed her fingers unloosed themselves from his hair and slid down to rest on the taught sinewy muscles of his arms.

_Damn the darkness in this room with its blackout drapes and useless bathroom nightlight! _ She wanted full use of all her senses in order for the experience to feel complete.

Even his lightest touches made her every cell come screaming to life and cry out to be touched again. The sound of his hard gulping breaths assured her that she was not alone in her rapture. The smell of him was intoxicating. It engulfed her in a faint scent of sandalwood substantially laced with musk and sweat.

And best so far, the taste of his kisses. His tongue was so sweet. Probably the result of some mouthwash or whatever kind of breath mints he used, but she pushed that thought aside. She preferred to think of him as being naturally sweet. When that sweetness mixed with the salty flavor of the tiny droplets of perspiration that were beading on his lip, the combination was heaven; like some rare exotic spice you have to use sparingly to keep from being overwhelmed by it.

She wanted to see his every detail. Yes, she could feel his movements and he felt glorious, but she wanted to watch his flesh ripple as he stretched and flexed; pulling her tight against him or staving her progress. She wanted to gaze into his face and see the subtle changes of expression as he felt and dispensed pleasure.

For a moment she felt cheated by this place; this room so carefully couched in darkness made for setting you adrift to dream or concealing things best kept hidden. But hers was a waking dream filled with lust and wanton desire. She resented her sight being limited to only blackened shadows and silhouettes. Of course it was also limited by having her eyes closed the majority of the time but that consideration failed to register with her.

Her resentment was short lived. Thinking of her desire to see him more clearly had diverted her attention for mere seconds, but it long enough. He plunged into her in one smooth stroke filling her completely, the tight slick walls of her pussy giving way just enough to accommodate him in their hot wet embrace.

Her eyes flew open and her accompanying gasp sounded like she'd been holding her breath for ten minutes straight and could just now inhale. Her nails dug deep into his arms. At least one drew blood. She could feel it, but that wasn't the feeling she was focused on at the moment.

"Relax," he murmured in her ear before easing back and thrusting deep again. He set an easy pace and after the initial surprise she quickly adjusted to the rhythm of his body, countering his every rise and fall in perfect harmony; meeting the urgency of his lust with a passion all her own.

Finally they collapsed in one another's arms, unable to do anything more than struggle for breath and enjoy the rippling aftershocks of great sex.

[][][][]

The room was suddenly bathed in light, jarring Sookie awake. She raised a hand to her brow and squinted toward the window.

"Rise and shine Miss Sookie Stackhouse. Time to see if we'll pass muster in the harsh morning sunlight."

As her eyes adjusted she realized that he looked just as she'd imagined him last night. Though no longer naked, he was wearing only his jeans. He had managed to take a shower without waking her. He must have just come out before flinging the drapes open because his hair was still wet and water was still beaded on his shoulders. He could have been carved from marble and displayed in a museum the way he stood there like a blond god framed by the dark drapes and what appeared to be a silver and gold aura provided by the sun pouring in all around him.

When he stepped toward the bed and out of the direct sunlight the effect was gone, but she would always remember it.

The morning passed all too quickly and her time with him was over. He drove her back to her car, still parked in the casino parking lot. A note from Amelia saying that she was in the coffee shop inside was in the seat. They exchanged numbers and he tenderly kissed her good-bye.

Sookie was still sitting in the driver's side of the car gathering her thoughts when Amelia opened the passenger door and climbed in. Judging from her particularly cheery smile Sookie guessed that she had not spent her night sleeping in the car.

"I'd ask if you've been waiting long, but I know you haven't because I just got here about half an hour ago and you weren't here when I arrived," Amelia chattered. She took her purse from around her neck, carelessly tossed it into the back seat and turned to face Sookie. "So, is he as good as he looks?"

"Amelia!" Sookie's shock was feigned and they both knew it. Neither even tried to hold back their giggles.

Chatting about their late night adventures kept them busy during the ride home. When they were almost there the text alarm on Sookie's cell phone chimed. It was sitting in the console and Amelia snatched it up.

"Well, well, what have we here?" she asked teasingly.

Sookie was obviously curious. "What?"

"Watch the road," Amelia scolded. "I'll read. [I hear Merlotte's is the place to go if you want deep fried pickles served by a hot waitress. I only live about an hour from Bon Temps. Got any advice? E] Oh my. Good thing you're not strangers any more or he might not chase you all the way to Merlotte's."


End file.
